


The Spider and The Fly

by AliceAyres



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ALSO FIRST TIME, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Blindfolds, Dom/sub Play, Hannibal is obviously very dominant, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Safeword Use, Spanking, Subdrop, Will is a Mess, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceAyres/pseuds/AliceAyres
Summary: “Do whatever you want,” Will answers, finally staring at Hannibal’s face. He shivers. “Just… Just go slow, alright?“--------When Will gets tired of running from himself, he goes to Hannibal's house and asks him to show him what is like to have a Dom.BDSM, smut, love, subdrop and everything else your dirty mind can think of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, guys!
> 
> A long time ago, I started a fanfic called "Leugnung". In this work, Will was a sub who was really afraid of being a sub. After six or seven chapters, I got very disappointed with the whole thing and just deleted it.
> 
> I really liked its sex scene, though. So I took it and wrote it a new ending, adding some things I really dig. I hope you like it. :)
> 
>  
> 
> Some important things before you read this story:
> 
> 1\. TRIGGER: Spanking, sub drop, aftercare... many dirty things.
> 
> 2\. English is not my first language, so expect to find some grammar mistakes in here. Feel free to correct me anytime. :)
> 
> 3\. The Spider and the Fly is a fantastic song by London After Midnight. You should totally listen to it.
> 
> 4\. A comment is something beautiful <3 
> 
> \------------

 

**The Spider and the Fly**

 

When he opens the door, Will is there.

 

He doesn't have time to ask him anything - the boy is on him within seconds, and kisses him like he needed it to survive.

 

Hannibal’s hands grab Will’s waist and he brings the younger man even closer to him. Will goes, pliant and tired - tired of running, tired of pretending, tired of hiding the way his heart contracts and his belly twists every single time Hannibal touches him, looks at him… or just exists and breathes next to him, anyway.

 

There is something incredibly appealing in the older man’s fingers against his skin, and something fetching in the way Hannibal holds him like he was claiming Will as his. Will doesn’t think he has ever felt that owned before.

 

“What are you doing here?” Hannibal asks against his mouth, lips still brushing Will’s, who just moans and tries to kiss him again. Hannibal’s strong grip stops him before he can succeed. “Answer me. I want to know if I can expect you to just kiss me and run away.”

 

“I never kissed you and ran away,” Will jokes, but gulps when Hannibal’s fingers pinches his skin. He tries not to tremble, but fails miserably. “I don’t know. I really, really don’t know. Please, don’t ask me anything - just take me inside and we can talk. Or not talk, I don’t… Just do it.”

 

“Do what?” Hannibal purrs and Will closes his eyes, helpless. Hannibal feels compassionate for the first time and, with his hands still around Will’s middle, brings him inside.

 

They move together, but Hannibal leads the way. Will goes - because really, what else could he do? He accepts it when Hannibal throws him on the sofa and goes after him, positioning himself above Will’s body on all fours. He smiles when the agent shivers, pressing himself against the leather of Hannibal’s sofa.

 

“Still scared of me, I suppose?” Hannibal teases, lowering his head to kiss Will’s chin, sliding his wet lips on Will’s stubble. He likes how the boy feels so rough and so soft at the same time.

 

“Still deciding how I feel,” Will confesses, eyes closed, body still tense. He inhales when Hannibal kisses his pulse point and feels a sting of arousal when Hannibal’s skilled tongue presses on his skin. “A little drunk - not a lot, just enough to help me pretending I am here because of the whiskey.”

 

“Do you need to drink in order to admit that you ache for kissing me?” Hannibal asks. Will has the impression his voice sounds both offended and amused.

 

“No,” Will answers fast and swallows hard. He curses himself for the way his legs are still fluttering. “But I need a drink to admit I am here because I have been thinking a lot about what you have said.”

 

“I have said many things.”

 

“Yes, you have,” Will grunts, visibly uncomfortable. He bites back a moan when one of Hannibal’s legs press against his clothed crotch. “But all of these things are related to a single theme - and you know what I mean, Hannibal, fuck. Do you really need to make me say it?”

 

“No,” Hannibal declares, smiling. “But I like it when you are squirming.”

 

“Fuck,” Will grunts. Hannibal bites his neck in reprimand and causes a moan to shake the air.

 

“Language, Will,” Hannibal warns him, licking the prominent mark of his teeth against Will’s jugular. “You’ve been cursing a lot. Where is your politeness?”

 

“I threw it away,” Will mutters, already breathless. “Alongside with my sanity.”

 

“Will I have to wash your mouth?” Hannibal purrs again, smug. Will presses against him, panting. “Or maybe stuff it with something to keep you from speaking and cursing?”

 

“Do whatever you want,” Will answers, finally staring at Hannibal’s face. He shivers. “Just… Just go slow, alright?“

 

“Would you like some wine, Will?” Hannibal asks and almost chuckles when Will looks lost. “Just wait a second., please. There is something I have to do.”

 

Hannibal moves. Will just stays there, back on Hannibal’s huge sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He waits, paying attention to the sounds that come from the kitchen. When Hannibal finally comes back, he brings with him a pair of wine glasses and a beautiful bottle.

 

“Come with me, dear,” he says, smirking. Will sits down, feeling awkward. “Let me spoil you a little.”

 

Will obeys. He goes after Hannibal, observing the way he moves his hips and his long, delicious legs. Only then Will realizes Hannibal is wearing nothing but a pair of satin shorts and a red sweater. His feet are naked and he looks so casual Will is not sure if he has ever felt so attracted to Hannibal before.

 

“I wish you had called, Will,” Hannibal says when they finally enter his bedroom. Will stops at the door, unsure. “I would have prepared something nicer for us. But I am delighted that you have decided to come to me.”

 

Hannibal deposits the glasses and the bottle on his nightstand. Slowly, he turns and watches Will’s wide eyes with deep amusement.

 

“Come,” he says again, sweet, but firm. “Turn the lights on, close the door and come here.”

 

It takes Will a few seconds to learn how to move again. When he finally does what Hannibal told him to, he receives a sound of approval.

 

“That is it,” Hannibal praises, putting his hands on Will’s hips. He brings the man closer to him again and mouths his neck, moaning. “You smell good enough to eat.”

 

Will moves to touch Hannibal’s waist, unsure if that is what he is supposed to do. Hannibal then presses their bellies together, forcing his erection against Will’s. The abrupt gesture steals a groan from Will.

 

“Stay still,” Hannibal commands. Will nods, fixing his eyes on Hannibal’s movements.

 

Hannibal grabs the brim of Will’s sweater and removes it slowly. Will rises his arms, letting the other man undress him. Hannibal’s mouth is on Will’s chest almost immediately - he licks Will’s clavicle, explores the valleys between his sharp bones, delights in the way he shivers, twists and sweats. He feels good. He tastes even better.

 

Will sighs, closing his eyes. He wants it to be real - he wants, for once, to feel instead of watching and thinking too much. His hands try to go under Hannibal’s sweater, but the older man grabs his wrists so firm he chokes on his own saliva, nervous. Hannibal’s lips go down and find a nipple, and he lavishes it with his tongue for a few seconds. He catches the little nub between his sharp teeth and threatens to bite it, but doesn’t do it - instead, he blows cold air against Will’s heated skin.

 

“Jesus,” Will whispers, shaking, and misses Hannibal’s smug expression.

 

“I am curious, Will…” Hannibal backs off, but doesn’t let go of Will’s wrists. He walks backwards until his knees touch the bed, and he turns them both to throw Will against the blood red sheets. Will pants, opening his eyes - bluer than ever. “Tell me about the thought that convinced you to come here.”

 

“Hannibal,” Will begs, but Hannibal’s hands are tight around his thighs a few seconds later and Will forgets every single word he knows. He holds his breath, so aroused his crotch is pulsating against its confinements, and stares openly at Hannibal’s gorgeous face.

 

Hannibal has got the eyes of a killer.

 

Will likes it when they are deadly.

 

“Did you think about letting me ravish you?” Hannibal asks. Will can only nod. “Did you imagine me between your legs, swallowing you whole?”

 

“Yes,” Will confesses. Hannibal opens one of Will’s buttons, but doesn’t go further than that. He keeps his palm splayed against the front of Will’s trousers and waits for him to go on. Will finally understands he won’t go on unless he hears exactly what he wants. “I thought about giving up my control. I thought I need to get out of here. I have to think straight - and I can’t, not like this.”

 

“Go on,” Hannibal opens another button. Will feels caged inside his own skin, feels too tight, too big and small at the same time - he is about to burst.

 

“Thinking about you, about this _thing_ we have, I just - I can’t work,” Will shudders, spreading his legs a little more, inviting Hannibal to touch him. The other just smiles and pressed his palm a little harder against Will’s jeans. “I have cases to solve, but I can’t. I can't concentrate. I have to break free of this and give my body what it needs to see if I can go back to being me.”

 

“This is you,” Hannibal says and unzips Will’s trousers. He undresses him, leaving only the black boxer briefs behind. He cocks an eyebrow when he sees the bulge in his underwear and feels it when his mouth gets wet. “Deliciously you.”

 

“Let’s see,” Will mutters, feeling exposed due to the obvious appreciation coming from Hannibal’s eyes. “Staring is rude.”

 

“I am deeply sorry,” Hannibal is remorseless. He smirks and kisses Will’s covered member, feeling the hotness that emanates from it. Will body pulses in response. “Do you feel like drinking some wine?”

 

“Not now,” Will says, almost in disbelief. Hannibal points to the bottle. Will snorts, but hands the wine to him. He moves to grab one of the glasses, but the doctor makes a negative sound. Will frowns and stares, confused.

 

“I think your rudeness has infected me,” Hannibal says, making a face. “What’s to be done about that?”

 

Before Will can think of anything else, Hannibal pours wine on his belly and crotch. Will almost jumps, but one of Hannibal’s hands, pressed firmly against his sharp hipbone, stops him from fleeing. Will’s body is shaking again, his mouth open in a perfect “o”.

 

“Oh,” Hannibal clicks his tongue and lowers his head, licking the liquid off Will’s abdomen. He purrs, loving the mixture between Will’s unique taste and the strong flavour of an old wine.

 

He pours a little more and deposits the bottle on the floor.

 

Hannibal goes down slowly, sucking the wine off the cotton of Will’s briefs, and feels dizzy when the smell of Will’s arousal gets even stronger. He sucks hard against the side of his still clothed cock, moaning his appreciation, and loves it when Will’s hands grab his shoulders.

 

“What a shame,” he mutters against Will’s cock, his lips brushing the soaked briefs. “I am sorry about your clothes, Will. Let me help you get rid of these.”

 

Hannibal removes Will’s briefs slowly, loving it when his rigid cock escapes from its confinement and stands proud against Will’s belly button. He moves back and licks Will’s cock without the barriers of clothing, earning a moan from him.

 

“Beautiful boy,” Hannibal purrs, smiling devilishly. Will nods, euphoric, unable to even think. “Don’t hold your voice.”

 

He licks again and again, so slowly Will feels tempted to ask him to just hurry the fuck up. He knows, however, this gesture will not be tolerated. Will sighs and spreads his legs a little wider, almost shy. Hannibal chuckles and sucks a kiss against the base of Will’s cock. The younger man cries out, melting under his touch, undulating his hips. Hannibal holds him down and sucks harder, moaning when Will squirms and shakes.

 

He travels up and down Will’s cock, learning the shape, the texture of the veins, the delicious smell of his skin. He teases the foreskin with his tongue and licks the very tip, enjoying the taste of precum, sweat, _Will_. He could lick him clean forever.

 

It was not the first time someone performed such an act on him, but that was definitely the first time Will felt someone was sucking him off not only for his pleasure, but for their own. Hannibal’s mouth worked leisurely, enjoying the situation, savoring Will’s body reactions and his particularities.

 

“Jesus, Hannibal,” Will moans when the man engulfs him completely, sucking him like he was starving for it. He bucks against him, quivering, feeling closer to orgasm. He moans louder when one of Hannibal’s hands go to his perineum and rubs on the wrinkled skin of his testicles. “This is - fuck!”

 

Hannibal sucks so hard Will sees stars. His back leaves the mattress and makes a beautiful curve. In his mind, Will knows he needs to come, but he doesn’t want to. He wants that feeling and that moment to last for hours.

 

He almost cries when Hannibal lets go of his member and kisses the wet tip of his cock. He inhales, trying to concentrate again, and focus on Hannibal’s face. His lips are swollen, his chin and cheeks are painted in red and his hair is mussed and sweaty. He looks so different from his usual self - and yet, he is everything Will has ever known and cherished and desired.

 

“Stay like this,” Hannibal says, voice rough and aroused. Will licks his lips and looks down, framing Hannibal’s erection. He tries to reach it, but Hannibal grabs his wrist. “Haven’t you heard me? Stay like this. Don’t move.”

 

“I want to touch you,” Will pouts. Hannibal offers him a smirk, but doesn’t let go of his hand. “I want to feel it. I want to p--”

 

“Later,” Hannibal cuts him and Will doesn’t try to say anything else. Hannibal puts his hand back on the mattress and gets up, leaving the bed. Will blinks, surprised, but keeps his blurry eyes on him.

 

Hannibal opens his huge drawer and takes a box off it. He goes back to bed, puts the box on the nightstand and chooses one item. Before Will can ask, Hannibal shows him a blindfold made of dark silk. Will tenses; Hannibal doesn’t move an inch.

 

“May I do it?” Hannibal asks, sweet. Will hesitates. “If you don’t want it, Will, you can tell me. I will not be angry. On the contrary.”

 

“I am not sure,” he tries, but licks his lips. “I am scared I will lose it.”

 

“Isn’t that the purpose of it?” Hannibal smiles, bending to kiss Will’s lips. Will feels his own taste on Hannibal’s mouth and licks him. The older man laughs, enamoured. “You don’t have to do it. I am merely stating the obvious. If you want to give up your control, this is a good way of letting it happen. If it makes you uncomfortable, I have another idea.”

 

“What if I want to stop?”

 

“You can tell me to stop. But if you prefer, you can choose a word,” Hannibal offers, still calm and collected, but his erection remains visible from under his briefs. Will wants to ignore everything and just take him in his mouth, but refuses to do such a thing.

 

“Chesapeake?” Will tries, a little ashamed, and swallows hard when Hannibal nods. “Alright. Go ahead.”

 

“Good,” Hannibal praises and kisses him one more time before blindfolding him.

 

Will stays still for a while, trying to control his respiration. He hears Hannibal fumbling with the objects of his box and waits, anxious. Hannibal’s hand touches one of his wrists.

 

“May I tie your hands?”

 

“Are you supposed to ask me?” Will tries to joke, but sounds nervous and awkward. Hannibal muffles a laugh, charmed.

 

“You are not my submissive,” Hannibal clarifies and pretends not to see the way his words raise the hairs down Will’s arms. “Which means that yes, I have to ask for your permission. We are just… discovering things together. I’m showing you what it feels like.”

 

“Okay,” Will licks his lips. “Yes, you may.”

 

“Thank you,” Hannibal traces Will’s mouth with his tongue, desirous, but doesn’t let him deepen the kiss. He ties Will’s hands in front of his chest, making sure he can’t move. “I wish you could see how beautiful you look at this very moment, Will. I am jealous of this image, though. That is why it is all mine.”

 

Will presses his legs together, trying to contain his arousal. He cries out when he feels Hannibal’s teeth on his inner thigh and shivers when the older man sucks a mark against his skin. He knows it will bruise. He knows he will see it in the morning. He already wants more.

 

“Relax and trust me,” Hannibal commands. Will nods again.

 

Will hears it when Hannibal squeezes a plastic bottle. He almost jumps when something drips down his crotch, coating his cock and testicles. He prepares to ask, but soon Hannibal’s hand is around him and everything feels delicious, but strangely cold. A strong smell of herbs fills the air.

 

Friction warms the lube fast enough. Soon Will is moaning with abandon, fucking the tunnel of Hannibal hand. His moves are irregular, but everything feels incredibly good - Will doesn’t know what makes it so pleasurable, but the feeling is outstanding. Every cell of his body is singing, his fingers curl, his voice falters - he is so, so close.

 

Hannibal stops. Will whimpers, bucking his hips, but Hannibal slaps his thigh so violently he stops immediately. Pain spreads all over his body and he moans again, louder than before, feeling dizzy.

 

“Spread your legs,” Hannibal orders and Will obeys. He has the impression his heart is throwing itself against his ribcage. “Don’t move, Will. This is an order.”

 

“Yes,” Will answers and jumps when Hannibal’s palm connects with his thigh again, dangerously close to his crotch. He jerks, painfully hard, but deeply confused. “Why…? Why did I…?”

 

“I am making sure you are focused,” he explains, but Will knows it is a lie. He hit him because he wanted to - this is reason enough. “Remember to breath.”

 

When Hannibal’s fingers grab his legs, Will realizes they are wet and viscous. He knows what is coming next. His body tenses, his thighs are still throbbing, but the adrenaline is rushing, rushing, rushing -- he produces a sound of surprise when Hannibal grabs him by the ass and exposes him to his hungry eyes.

 

Will thanks every entity out there he can’t see it.

 

Hannibal licks his testicles and his perineum, murmuring his approval. He teases the skin of Will’s balls with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the way the younger man quivers and mewls, trying to reach him, but unable to do more than that. He is vulnerable. He is naked.

 

Hannibal is still wearing the same clothes. Will thinks, at least.

 

“Will you let me touch you today?” Will asks, hopeful, but scared. Hannibal stops for a while and hums.

 

“If you are a good boy,” he says and dips his tongue again, finding Will’s hole.

 

The world gets so small Will feels almost claustrophobic. He cries out, tensing, but doesn’t dare moving. Hannibal licks him a few times, sweet, patient, trying to get him used to the feeling. He suspects Will has never done such a thing - and this thought makes Hannibal even harder. He thinks about touching himself, but he decides to do it later.

 

Maybe he will ask Will to do it.

 

Maybe he will tell him to open his mouth.

 

He will have time to decide. Later.

 

He pushes his tongue inside Will, enjoying the way his walls contract around his muscle. One of his hands goes back to Will’s cock and he masturbates him in time with the movements of his tongue, trying to relax him. Within minutes, Will is sweating profusely and is nothing but a babbling mess. He pushes himself against Hannibal’s mouth, crying out every time Hannibal sucks hard against his hole, and fucks his hand desperately, rolling his eyes when Hannibal squeezes the tip of his erection almost hard enough to hurt.

 

He feels it when Hannibal shoves one finger inside, but he doesn’t mind. He keeps on impaling himself on Hannibal’s skilled tongue and welcomes the penetration of his long finger. It hurts a little, but everything is so enticing Will can’t help but cherishing the intrusion.

 

Hannibal rubs his clothed cock against the mattress every time Will mewls. He usually has a lot more of self control, but seeing Will like that is too much - even for a man with his nerves. He sucks harder and harder, moaning when he feels the muscle of Will’s hole open for him and slicks it with lube and saliva.

 

They are a mess. Hannibal wants more.

 

So does Will.

 

Hannibal removes his tongue from Will’s hole to press a kiss against one of his cheeks. His hands keep on working, though.

 

“Do you want to come, Will?” his voice is hoarse. Will nods, unable to produce coherent words.

 

Hannibal lets go of Will’s cock and turns him. Face down in the mattress, Will makes a sound of surprise. Hannibal then slaps his ass, firm. Will curls his body and screams into the pillow, melting.

 

“I made you a question, Will,” Hannibal warns, low. Will thinks he may be about to come. Or pass out. He is not sure if he minds, anyway. “Answer it.”

 

Will tries. He tries desperately to find words to tease, to offend, to beg - he tries, but his mind is a blend of incoherent thoughts, guilt, desire, _please, don’t_ , stay, more, give, give me. He tries, but there is nothing but heat, painful pleasure and erratic heartbeats.

 

Hannibal slaps him again and relishes on the way he tenses his shoulders, but tilts his back. He is offering himself to the slaughter, and Hannibal is way too selfish to ignore it. He moves closer and grabs Will by the waist, obligating him to kneel. One of his hands go to Will’s cock, which he squeezes.

 

“Hannibal,” Will calls him, weak, head still down. The older man grunts and slaps him again, hard enough to make him jerk.

 

“Count them, my love,” he orders, his voice so tough Will almost forgets it is Hannibal’s voice. “I want to hear it.”

 

“I,” Hannibal slaps again. Will sobs, biting his bottom lip. Hannibal waits, knowing Will is trying to regain his conscience. The younger man coughs before finding strength to speak. “One.”

 

“Good boy,” Hannibal lauds and offers him a few strokes in reward. Will tenses, feeling shocks all over his body. “Keep going.”

 

He slaps him. One, two, three. Soon he is slapping him so fast Will forgets the numbers - he registers the pain. The delicious pain. The way Hannibal’s hand hurts his bottom, strong and ruthless, and doesn’t give him time to think too much. He should be feeling so guilty about this. He is letting a man touch him, kiss him, spank him - it is sick, but why, why does it feel so good? He can’t bring himself to feel ashamed, he can’t. He asks for more, calls Hannibal’s name, begs him to hit him again, again, again.

 

He cries out when one of Hannibal’s lubed fingers go inside him. It burns, but his cock gets harder. Hannibal laughs when he feels how wet Will’s tip is, and rubs his thumb against the slickness of it.

 

“I wish I could put you in my mouth again now,” Hannibal confides so passionately Will feels himself _pulsating_. “This will have to be enough.”

 

He fingers him, curving his digit when it is deep enough. Will hiccups, pressing himself against him, almost screaming when Hannibal’s hand leaves his cock. The older man spanks him again, and another finger is pressed into his hole.

 

“Hannibal, f-” Will swallows hard, trying not to curse. He presses his face against the bed, infuriated. He is shaking too much. He can’t think coherently. He can’t even speak, for God’s sake. “Please, jerk me off.”

 

“No,” Hannibal sounds so dry and dictatorial Will almost comes on the spot. “Not now.”

 

The sounds Hannibal’s fingers make are loud and vulgar, but Will loves them. He tries to get rid of the ropes, but fails to move his hands. He thinks about asking Hannibal to untie him, but - why? Why would he do it? It is good to be at Hannibal’s mercy.

 

“Come back,” Hannibal commands, grabbing Will’s hair. He pulls it hard, earning a voluminous moan. He rubs his clothed erection against Will’s thigh and almost roars. “Stay with me.”

 

“I am,” Will confesses, slow and almost inaudible. “I am.”

 

“Would you like it if I fucked you?” Will trembles, feeling his knees so weak he is scared to fall. He swallows hard and nods. Hannibal smiles and, with his fingers still inside Will’s hole, rubs his cock against it. Will jerks. “I would love it. I would do it slowly, so deep you would be breathless after a few thrusts. I would make you scream louder - and I would let your hands free. I bet you would destroy my back with your nails. I would like it, even because I would punish you so hard afterwards. How does it make you feel?”

 

“Please, do,” Will begs, incoherent, and murmurs lots of disconnected words. Hannibal sighs, delighted, and presses his silk-covered cock against Will’s buttocks once again. He withdraws and inserts another finger into him. “Hannibal, why the fuck-”

 

“Language,” he slaps him again, pressing his three fingers inside and curving them.

 

The sound Will makes is so, so loud Hannibal feels worried about the neighbors for five seconds. Almost. He does it again, harder, and Will presses himself against him desperately, panting and fluttering, murmuring apologies, supplications, compliments. Hannibal feels, at the same time, madly in love and desperately in need of tearing him apart.

 

“Are you close?” he asks and pinches the reddened skin of one of his buttocks, enjoying the way Will contracts his hole around his fingers. He curls them again and Will snarls, cursing under his breath. “I suppose you are.”

 

“Yes,” Will confesses, voice thick with arousal. Feeling disarmed, he decided to tease Hannibal. “I’ll come all over your fancy sheets.”

 

“No, you won’t,” Hannibal says, so calm Will feels almost _scared_.

 

Hannibal’s hands disappear. Will blinks, confused, and gulps when Hannibal turns him again. One of Hannibal’s hand grabs Will’s swollen cock. The other hand removes his blindfold. Will blinks, unused to the light, and closes his eyes when Hannibal locks his fingers around his throat.

 

“Watch,” Hannibal commands. Will hesitates, feeling way too naked for the first time.

 

It takes him some seconds to finally gather the courage to open his eyes and see the picture they make. Hannibal looks debauched and so, so aroused Will can _taste_ his craving in the air. He thinks about asking Hannibal to let go of him and use his mouth to find his release. He thinks about begging Hannibal to spread lube all over himself and fuck him, still half clothed, putting him in the position Will knows he belongs to.

 

He says nothing. He is bewitched by Hannibal’s raw expression and he knows he would do anything the man asked - or commanded - him to.

 

“Perfect, Will,” Hannibal stutters, visibly enchanted. Will tries to smile, but feels too overwhelmed to do such a thing. “So incredibly perfect, you pretty boy. Will you come for me?”

 

Will nods, spreading his legs a little more, inviting Hannibal to come closer. Hannibal smiles and lets go of Will to lower his own shorts, exposing his hard, wet member for the first time. Will licks his lips when Hannibal spreads lube all over himself, expecting him to get inside him at once.

 

It doesn’t happen, though.

 

Hannibal puts their cocks together and masturbates them both at the same time. Will moans, moving his hips, loving the way they fit. Hannibal smirks, pleased, and clutches the other man’s throat even harder.

 

Will’s air gets scarce. He feels terrified.

 

“Hannibal,” he asks, low and careful, knowing Hannibal is observing him. “Stop.”

 

“Say the word,” Hannibal answers, still suffocating him, masturbating them faster and stronger. Hannibal rolls his eyes, shivering. “Say the word.”

 

Will knows the word. He remembers it perfectly. He knows Hannibal will stop immediately if he pronounces it, but he can’t - he just can’t. There’s a lump in his throat, a strange fear of disappointing them both. He wraps his legs around Hannibal’s middle, bringing him closer to himself. Soon they are so near he can feel Hannibal’s breath in his face.

 

“Say it,” Hannibal commands, bending to brush his lips on Will’s. The boy sighs, kissing him back. “You can’t say it, can you? I know why. Want me to tell you?”

 

Hannibal’s voice is stumbling. He has never looked so human and lovely before. Will feels a steady pressure in his guts and moans, feeling like his whole body was vibrating and emanating heat. Hannibal rubs their cocks together and press them, skin tight against skin, lube, precome and sweat mixing in their stomachs.

 

“You can’t tell me to stop because you know I will not hurt you beyond repair,” Hannibal declares, so animalistic his teeth are showing. Will groans, fighting to keep his eyes open. “You will not say “Chesapeake” because you like the idea of putting your life in my hands.”

 

Hannibal opens his mouth and moans loudly. His hand goes faster and soon he is coming all over Will’s chest and hands, staining Will’s skin and the ropes that keep his hands together. He is surprised and made weak by the force of his own orgasm, but he doesn’t let go of Will’s neck. His hand, dirty with his own release, goes back to Will’s cock, almost purple with desire, and he starts pumping it again. Will rolls his eyes, feeling overstimulated, but loving every second of the madness they are sharing.

 

“See what you do to me?” Hannibal grunts, sounding hoarse and delighted, and tightens his fingers around Will’s windpipe. “Don't overthink it. Feel it. I would never break you. Stop being scared of it.”

 

Will’s body is singing. Hannibal’s fingers almost cut the suppriment of air.

 

Hannibal can _taste_ the proximity of his orgasm.

 

Will breaks.

 

He cries as he orgasms, so hard his whole body  _hurts,_ and spills all over Hannibal's hand. He comes and comes, unable to stop himself from trembling desperately. The older man moans, hypnotized by Will's beauty and by the force of his release. With his hand still around his neck, he watches everything and he wishes he could just--

 

"Chesapeake," Will sobs, desperate, his voice so low Hannibal almost doesn't hear it. His eyes get wide when he realizes what Will is saying, though. "Chesapeake."

 

Hannibal's hand leaves his neck immediately. Will tries to get away, but the older man grabs him firmly.

 

"Wait," he says. Will shakes his head, mewling. "Let me remove the rope."

 

When he does it, the boy rolls on the bed and hides his face, feeling confused and torn between the most exquisite pleasure he has ever had and that feeling, that unknown feeling - _what the hell it is? Why does it hurt so much?_

 

He presses his hands on his chest, feeling the frantic pounding of his own heart.

 

He wishes it would stop beating.

 

"Will," Hannibal calls him after a few seconds, gentle but assertive. "Listen to me. Pay attention to my voice".

 

"No," he grunts, but Hannibal doesn't take it as an offense. He has seen it before.

 

"You were perfect, I can assure you. Look at me."

 

"I can't," he mutters, face down in the mattress, crying so much his shoulders are shaking. Hannibal swallows hard and slowly puts his hand on Will's back. The latter almost jumps, whining like he was in pain. "Please, don't touch me. Not now - don't. Don't touch me."

 

"My darling," Hannibal tries again, still sweet and trying to calm him down. "You are experiencing a sub-drop. This is normal; you are overwhelmed. There is nothing wrong about it. I am with you - you are perfect. Remember to breathe."

 

"I want to leave," Will says, almost incoherent, his eyes pressed together tightly. His body feels like it wants to expand, but it is so small, so, so small - he is afraid he is about to pass out. Hannibal feels a strange and unusual sting in his chest, but doesn't let anything show. "Please, let me go. I want to leave. I don't deserve it."

 

"Will," he repeats his name, trying to ground him. He wants to touch him so badly his fingers are almost shaking, but he knows Will has to calm down before he does it. "I am with you. You are not alone. Try to breathe."

 

"Will you let me go?"

 

"I can't let you go right now, not like this, for you will put yourself at risk," Hannibal clarifies, his voice worried, but careful.

 

"This is not fair," he curls into a ball, hands splayed on his face, his breathe erratic. Hannibal licks his lips, nervous. "I am free to go. I said, I gave you my safeword, you have to - I need to go. I feel, I feel so much, I--"

 

"Calm down," Hannibal orders, a little more rigid this time. Will's body tenses.

 

_Pain, release, open, trying, trying so hard, so rough, so bad, this, I love this._

 

_This is so wrong._

 

He coughs, almost breathless, and makes a pained hiss when Hannibal's hand touch his back again. The older man caresses his skin softly, trying to soothe him. "I am with you, Will. I'm so proud of you. My beautiful boy, the strongest of all. You were able to take so much."

 

"I don't deserve it," Will murmurs, still trying to decide how he feels about having Hannibal's hand on him again. "This, why do I like it? This is insane."

 

"No, it's not," Hannibal says, sweet, bending to kiss his head. He presses his nose on his hair and inhales, enamoured. "This is beautiful - there is no one in this world, Will, no one like you. You've done exceptionally well."

 

"I don't --," Will shakes his head, trying to reorganize his thoughts. His head hurts so much he is afraid to open his eyes. "I don't know what happened. I don't know what was that. I was so scared, I felt so much - it just crawled inside me, all of it."

 

"I apologize if I got too carried away," Hannibal says, and it is sincere. He kisses Will's nape, then kisses his shoulder. He smiles when the boy shivers. "You are the most impressive creature I've ever put my eyes on."

 

The boy doesn't say anything. Hannibal kisses his skin many, many times, waiting for him to believe his words.

 

"Look at me," Hannibal murmurs. This is not an order. Will knows it, but he shakes his head. "Please."

 

"I can't look at you," answers Will, his voice hoarse. "I can't."

 

"Why not, Will?" Hannibal asks, his hand caressing the side of his face he can reach. "I am with you. You have me."

 

"Why?" Will darts out, still not raising his head. Hannibal hums. "Why do I feel it?"

 

"Was it pleasurable?" Hannibal kisses his arm. "Did it make you feel alive?"

 

"Yes," Will swallows hard. "I don't know."

 

"You don't have to think about it now, dearest," Hannibal says, caressing his hair.

 

"What if I can't stop it?"

 

"I am sorry to be so insistent, Will, but please, look at me."

 

It takes Will a long time. Hannibal doesn't say anything - he just keep his fingers between his curls, kisses his skin, murmurs love and praise against his body. When the boy finally looks at him, his face is wet and red and --

 

Hannibal has to learn how to breathe again.

 

He has never looked so attractive before. Never so alive. Never so himself, Hannibal can see it clear.

 

He loves him so much it is unnatural. 

 

"How do you feel?" He asks, his voice full of emotion. Will shrugs, visibly confused. Hannibal bends in his direction, slowly, giving him time to back down if he wished to. 

 

He feels so very relieved when he doesn't move.

 

He feels so very relieved when he sighs against his lips, tears still rolling down his face.

 

"Beautiful creature," he praises him again, smiling lightly, his mouth touching Will's as he speaks. "How did I ever get so lucky?"

 

"Everything hurts," Will whispers, answering his first question. Hannibal's hand go to his waist and he tries to bring him closer to himself. The boy hesitates. "Not only because of the things you have done. It feels like - I'm sorry. I am so, so very sorry."

 

"There is no reason to be sorry," Hannibal says, his hand warm against Will's hip. "I told you before. You were perfect."

 

"I don't know what it is," Will admits, a little shy. Hannibal's features doesn't show any pity. "My body is a mess. I feel like I am... I can't contain it. There is something desperate to get out. There is something here, I don't know, I feel so -- will you hold me? Please? I'm sorry."

 

"Do I have your permission?" Hannibal asks and Will grunts, covering his face.

 

"Yes."

 

The older man brings him close and holds him, loving the way they fit together. Will is still trembling, but it is much less desperate now. "Don't overthink it, Will. Just let yourself feel everything. This will get better soon, I promise - I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

 

"I know," Will finally says, hiding his face in Hannibal's neck. His shoulders finally lose their tension as Hannibal kisses them. "I know."

 

 


End file.
